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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27916132">fix my attention problem</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marksfabulousbutt/pseuds/Marksfabulousbutt'>Marksfabulousbutt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Team Fortress 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, POV First Person</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:33:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>623</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27916132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marksfabulousbutt/pseuds/Marksfabulousbutt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm so freaking tired of seeking attention.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>fix my attention problem</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Projection on da kin at its finest.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Attention. It's all I want. And yet when it's given to me by an amazing boyfriend I go out of my way to avoid him? To avoid talking to him? What kind of mind fuck is that? I fucking hate myself for this. Avoiding him like the plague, hiding in my room all day, starving until it hurts so much I get up and eat? </p><p>I'm an idiot. I suck at this. How can anyone love me? I've never voiced these aloud because I know that would be guilt tripping. My insecurity is no excuse of wanting attention from him. Is no excuse of avoiding him. I wish I could fix myself. Fix my fucking problems before I turn into more of a attention whore than I'm already am. </p><p>I wish I could function normally, wish I could deal with the meager attention I'm given. But maybe It's because my parents were never there. My ma was about as gone as my dad. Feeding all of us must've taken some work from her and my older brothers. I was also always last. I wasn't ever given praise because it was expected and I was only ever given negative attention when I acted out in school. </p><p>I wish I didn't feed off of this. Off of attention from others. My boyfriend does fine without it. Why can't I? I want to bust my skull open without remorse. I want to tear my flesh and muscles from my bones. I want to hurt myself for being so freaking stupid. </p><p>I'm so close to a wall. I could just... slam my head against it. Until the noise stops, until I'm dead even. </p><p>My eyes shoot open when a warm hand links with mine. I turn to look, and there he is. Gorgeous in all of his weird ways... I wish I didn't rely so much on that as I curl and place my head in his lap. I sit around the back of him, quite comfortable in my dumb position. I love him so much. I wish he loved me half as much as he does. I wish I got on his nerves more. I wish he didn't bother with me because this is better than waiting the many... many years before he gets tired of me. </p><p>Because he's patient like that. And everyone else I've met tossed me away like a rotten tomato. And then never spoke to me again. </p><p>But he... he stares at me like I've placed the stars in the sky. Like I'm the best thing to ever happen to him. </p><p>I wasn't supposed to be. It was a mistake hooking up with me and then falling head over heels. Because I'm nothing. An equally warm hand runs through my hair. I've been crying without meaning too. "You okay?" He rumbles. </p><p>I wish he didn't care as much as he did. "No." I answer. "I just don't want to tell you 'cause everything just seems. Whiney." I don't know how to phrase it without getting the automatic 'You're not blah-blah-blah.' </p><p>"Do you want to talk about it?" I shake my head. "It's dumb. Overthinking." Because as I rationalize my thoughts, I'm right. I'm deserving of love. I just seek too much of it, a history of never being good enough to my family made me seek more of good attention. Worried attention. </p><p>I wish I had a partial childhood like my boyfriend's. Where my Ma cared to ask if we were okay. Where she praised us. I love my ma, I do. But... I feel so lonely. I don't know how to fix it. But him being here is enough. I curl closer. </p><p>I love him. I love him so freaking much.</p>
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